


Andraste 7:19

by Gaqalesqua



Series: Dragon Age Fanfiction [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Andraste 7:19, Desk Sex, F/M, Heresy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Relaxation via the Chant of Light</p>
            </blockquote>





	Andraste 7:19

“I thought you could use a break,” the Herald murmured, brushing Cullen’s face gently. Her thumb rubbed the scar over his lip, and he leaned into the touch, his eyes closing gently. There were bags beneath them, Lusia noticed, frowning. “Sit down, Cullen.”

The Commander did so, a little surprised. When his lover suggested ‘a break’ it was usually a warm kiss, sometimes followed by sex. But when her fingers slid into his hair and began to massage his scalp, he almost purred in delight. Maker, it felt so good. He was a lucky man. Her fingers dug in, and he moaned softly, feeling her rotate the pads continuously over his scalp. While she was busy, he took off his gauntlets, and slid back a little to kick off his shoes. One of her hands left his head to pull at the fur-lined cloak around his shoulders. She loved him, but that was cumbersome and awkward to get off in a hurry. He helped her to get it off, and then almost melted into the chair when she returned her hands to his head.

“You always look so tired,” she commented.

“It’s the nightmares,” he sighed, and she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Cullen smiled softly.

“I wish I could keep them at bay,” she murmured.

“It’s not your doing, love,” he told her. She breathed in his smell, her nose in his hair. Her lithe, rogue’s fingers unbuckled his armour slowly. He barely felt it slipping away from him until he heard a clank and realised most of it was on the floor. “How do you do that?” he chuckled.

“Deft hands,” she said with a small laugh. He wore a simple, but heavy shirt beneath it all, and she ran the tips of her fingers over it.

“Do you want me to take this off?” he asked politely.

“It’s your shirt, commander,” she purred, draping herself over his shoulders. “Personally I’d like it gone.”

“Then gone it is,” he laughed, and shucked it, revealing the lightly scarred, muscled torso beneath it. She barely dragged her nails down his back, and Cullen groaned, grasping Lady Trevelyan around the waist and moving her around the chair to fall into his lap. She did so with a small cry, and he captured her lips roughly. The commander stood, putting her down and clearing off his desk with one sweep. Lusia always liked when he did that - he was quite literally putting aside all his duties for her. He laid her down on the wood, one hand behind her head, and the passion in his kisses took her breath away as the other hand busied itself undoing the beige jacket covering her torso. The jacket gone, he let go of her head to grasp her trousers and pull them down her legs, flipping her onto her front to help get them down.

The Templar rolled her over with one hand, pulling the simple cotton small clothes down her legs, and he knelt, kissing her thighs slowly. The rough scrape of his stubble made her shiver, and he looked up, concerned.

“Are you cold?” he asked softly. She shook her head.

“Don’t stop, Cullen,” she breathed. So he didn’t, and Lusia stripped her coverings off as the commander of the Inquisition trailed his tongue up her inner thigh and kissed her centre. She pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle a groan as he lapped at her softly, head thudding into the wood as he lifted her leg over his shoulder and slowly slid a finger down her slit. It slid within her, and Lucianna braced her hand against the desk, nails biting deeply.

“Cullen,” she whispered, and he thrust it back and forth slightly. The first time he had done this, he’d read it in a story, and he was confused, knowing the idea but not sure how to put it into practise. Like any good warrior, he learned from his mistakes, and now, as he sucked softly at her, he was skilled enough to make her whimper in pleasure. His stubble added a new texture, and she had been right about the lip scar. It felt strange but nice against her skin, and she tangled her fingers into his hair as he crooked his digit slightly. Her hips jerked. His finger left and as he continued to lap at her, she heard the sound of him undressing. He stood, and she sat up, watching him slide out of his greaves. He stepped away from the pile of metal and pushed it away with his foot, running his hands slowly over her body. Lusia’s legs parted, but Cullen had other ideas.

Grasping her hips, he gently turned her on her front, kissing her back as he sunk inside her. Her breath caught, feeling his mouth trail over her shoulder and the muscle between neck and collarbone. His teeth bit softly, moving to the back of her neck as his fingers stroked her sides gently. Lusia found herself wound up somewhat from the stimulation he’d just given her, and Maker, when he started to move, she gasped in delight at the sensation. She arched upwards, spreading her legs a little to take him more easily, and Cullen’s hips hit her rear, the Templar beginning a steady thrusting, concentrated as the man himself. It was firm, and hit Lusia’s need just right. She wondered idly if he had sized her up and taken all of her into consideration, the way he’d done to the Red Templars in the fight at the Shrine of Dumat. He braced his palm against her back, using it to move her body back and forth, the other slipping beneath her. At the touch against her nub the Inquisitor moaned.

As his pace increased, she scratched the wood lightly, and as she pressed herself against the man, she heard him whispering something under her breath. When she listened in, she realised he was reciting part of the Chant of Light, and hearing it, it felt almost as though he was talking about her. His thrusts were timed with each word, and Lusia had to admit, it was a very creative use of the Chant.

“Those who oppose thee shall –  _Maker!_  – know the wrath of heaven. Field and forest shall-shall- Lusi!”

Hearing Cullen’s pet name for her drop from his mouth, even as his thrusting turned erratic, made the Inquisitor come with a cry of delight. Cullen bit deeply into her shoulder, lapping at the mark, continuing to fuck her through the remaining lines of Andraste 7:19.

“They shall…cry out to their…false gods…and-find- _silence!_ ”

As he said ‘silence’, he gripped her tightly, and she felt him twitch, coming inside her. Cullen panted heavily, leaning over her tanned body, and Lusia rubbed herself against him gently, putting one hand in his hair comfortingly.

“If a Chantry mother heard that, she’d denounce you as a heretic,” Lusia chuckled. Cullen smiled, pressing his lips against her neck.

“And if the Herald of Andraste supports me, what can she say against me?” he murmured, running a finger down her back. Lusia giggled.

“Commander Cullen, a known blasphemer, saved from the flames of judgement by the mercy of Andraste’s Herald,” she purred.

“Just how merciful is she?” he asked, grinning.

“Allow me to show you,” she whispered. 


End file.
